


Imaginary Friend

by abananapepper



Category: Frozen (2013), Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 09:31:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3115046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abananapepper/pseuds/abananapepper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lonely after being cooped up alone in her room so long, Elsa meets her favorite book character, Jack Frost, and convinces herself that she's invented him as an imaginary friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Boy on the Balcony

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic I wrote about a year ago over on FF.net, and subsequently had to take down due to demands for more chapters / a different ending. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> As of 4/13/15, this work will be made available for AO3 users only, due to the recent issues with Ebooks-Tree.com.

The knock on her door was persistent as ever.

"Elsa?" Anna asked through the keyhole. "Elsa, come out and play with me! Please? Elsa, come out and play!"

It was almost dusk, and Anna had been at it most of the day. She wanted to play with her sister, she really did. She'd give anything to. But she couldn't. She couldn't risk it.

"Elsa!"

"Go away," Elsa mumbled.

"What?"

"Go away!"

After a moment, Elsa heard her sister's dejected footsteps pad slowly away from her door. She sighed and flopped down on her bed. The truth was, she was horribly lonely and bored. All her meals were sent to her room, and the only people who visited that she let in were her parents. She had toys, of course, and books. Loads of books. Her favorite was about a boy with hair as white as hers, who brought winter in his wake. She pulled the book off her bedside table and began reading where she'd left off last time, her tiny fingers underlining the words so she could read better.

"'Jack Frost,'" she read aloud to herself, "'the boy who never gets older and brings fun and joy and snow.' I wish I could meet him." The young girl sighed, tugging at her gloves.

"Meet who?" a voice asked quietly. She whirled around, and there he stood on her balcony, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Jack Frost," she breathed.

"That's my name," he whispered back in awe.

There was a moment of silence as the two looked at each other, not exactly sure what to do. Then, suddenly, a thought hit Elsa. The gates were closed, and no one but her parents and certain servants could come see her.

"Momma! Papa!" she yelled suddenly. "There's a man in my room!"

The boy seemed torn between leaving and staying, and indecision lead to him standing in the exact spot he'd been in when her parents burst into the room with a couple guards. Her father scooped her up in his arms and looked around the room.

"Where is he, Elsa?" he asked.

"Out on the balcony!" she replied, pointing to where the white-haired youth was standing. A couple guards ran out to the balcony and looked over the edge, as though they didn't see the boy. They turned to the king.

"We'll search the grounds," one said quickly, and the king nodded. One of the guards passed right through Frost, and Elsa's mouth dropped open, wordlessly. Her father cradled her in his arms.

"We'll find him," he promised. "You're safe now."

"Would you feel better if I slept in your room tonight, dear?" her mother asked, eyes still cast out the glass balcony doors.

"No," Elsa replied slowly, following her gaze. A melancholy smile played on Jack's lips, as though he was sharing an old joke with himself that he only just now had a punch line for. Elsa looked back to her mother's worried face. "No, Momma. I'll be okay."

After a bit of lingering, her parents bid her goodnight and left her alone with the boy no one else knew was there. She looked to him for an answer, but he didn't provide one. Then her face lit up with possibility.

"Are you my imaginary friend?" she asked. Someone only she knew about, that could keep her from being lonely? Finally, a real friend? He laughed once.

"You could call it that, if you wanted to."


	2. Snowflakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy to have a friend of her own, young Elsa spends a day playing with Jack.

Elsa sat by the fireplace in her room, reading one of the new books her mother had brought for her. Her Majesty had sat with her daughter for a time, occupying the rocking chair and reading aloud to the little girl who sat on the floor. She's the one who'd had the fire lit, and the one who had closed the balcony doors.

"It's so cold in here, Elsa," she'd said, "You'll catch your death."

Elsa didn't argue with her, but she hadn't felt cold. On the contrary, she'd felt very comfortable. But she knew her mother only wanted what she thought was best for her, and she'd brought new books, so she didn't find it worth it to complain about it.

Now though, with her mother gone, she'd let the fire all but die, and she'd re-opened the doors to the outside. She was hoping for a visitor tonight.

He'd disappeared shortly after his first visit, Jack Frost, without any real explanation, which seemed odd behavior for an imaginary friend. As far as she understood, imaginary friends were supposed to stick around and keep you company. But that clearly was not the case with the white-haired boy. So she'd taken to keeping her balcony doors open, just in case he decided to pop by.

"What're you reading?" a voice asked from behind her. She startled, then looked over her shoulder. The boy with white hair was leaning against the wall, a large stick with a hook on the end in one hand. Elsa's face lit up. He'd come.

"The Misadventures of Captain Bartley," she replied. "My mom gave it to me today."

"Oh yeah?" He strode over and sat next to her, peering over her shoulder at the book. "What's it about?"

"Well, the main character, Captain Bartley, is a pirate. But he's not a very good pirate, and he ends up in a lot of trouble because of it. His first mate Altman usually gets him out of whatever sticky situation he's in." She pointed to one of the few illustrations in the book, a picture of a burly, bearded man standing next to a scrawny-looking man in stripes.

"Bartley is the one with the beard?" Jack asked. Elsa shook her head.

"No, that's Altman. Bartley is the little one. He's smaller than just about everyone in his crew, which is one of the reasons he gets into trouble." She bookmarked her page and shut the book, turning to her guest, eyes bright. "You really are Jack Frost, aren't you?"

Upon hearing his name, Jack seemed to be overcome with an emotion that Elsa couldn't quite place. Joy? Relief? It seemed to be a mixture of the two, with something else tying them together. He nodded, leaning back and grinning. "At your service."

"You've always been my favorite, you know," Elsa said shyly. He seemed taken aback.

"What do you mean?"

She clambered to her feet, ran to her nightstand, picked up her book, held it out for him to see. "This book is about a bunch of people like you." She began flipping through it. "Father Time, Mother Earth, Santa Clause, the Eater Bunny. It has stories about all of you." She stopped on a page thinner around the edges than the previous pages, and the tips were dog-eared. She showed it to him; the heading on the first page read "Jack Frost" in big, fancy lettering.

Jack took the book gingerly, tracing his fingers over his name. "But why me?"

Elsa shuffled her feet and didn't look at him directly. "No reason." She changed the subject. "So how do you do it? Bring winter, I mean?"

Jack looked up from the book, flashing an excited, wicked smile. Then, he held out his hand. Little snowflakes began spring out of thin air around his palm, drifting aimlessly up and around the room. The girl beside him gasped, eyes following them through the air, mesmerized. She turned back to him, eyes bright.

"Is that why your hair is white, too?" she asked.

"You could say that," Jack chuckled, then scowled in confusion. "Wait, what do you mean, 'too'?"

Elsa hesitated. She'd spoken without thinking. No one was supposed to know that she had powers. Her parents had told her that time and time again.

But Jack was her imaginary friend, right? He existed only in her mind. She couldn't hurt him with her powers, either. So what would it hurt for him to know?

As she was mulling this over in her mind, there was a little knock on the door. "Elsa?" a little voice asked on the other side.

Elsa put a finger to her lips, indicating Jack to be quiet. The knocking continued.

"Elsa, come out to play! Please?"

Jack made a sort of shooing motion to the girl to go to the door and play with whoever it was on the other side. Elsa shook her head sadly.

"Why not?" Jack asked.

"Shh!" Elsa hissed. Anna had several imaginary friends; Elsa had heard her talking to them out in the hallway before. They seemed to be created at will, like magic. Meanwhile, Elsa only had Jack. The last thing she needed was her sister somehow hearing him with her magic imaginary friend powers.

"But why not?" he asked again, a little quieter this time.

"I can't!" she whispered back.

"Elsa? Are you talking to someone?" Anna asked from the other side of the door.

"No, Anna, go away," Elsa said.

There was a pause, and then Anna could be heard shuffling away again.

"Why did you do that?" Jack asked, sounding almost offended. "She just wanted to play!"

"Jack, I can't!"

"And why not?"

"I just can't!" She yelled, balling her fists. She took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "It's for her own good."

"Her own good? What, by keeping her away from you?"

"Yes," Elsa said simply. She tugged on the hem of her left glove, securing it in place. "I think you should go, Jack," she said slowly.

"What?" He took a step forward. Elsa stood her ground, though her voice shook.

"I think you should go, for now. I think it'd be best."

Jack pursed his lips, ready to defy her. But for some reason unknown to Elsa, he didn't.

"Fine." He walked out onto the balcony and looked back at the white-haired girl, almost glaring. Something in his eyes, though, seemed to say "don't expect me to stay away forever." And then he shot off into the night, taken by a gust of sudden wind.


	3. A Helping Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Determined to help Elsa learn how to control her powers, Jack turns her room into a winter wonderland.

Jack was unlike any of the imaginary friends Anna ever seemed to have. He didn't just walk in the room whenever she wished he would, and his mind worked very differently from Elsa's. It was as if she'd imagined a real person into existence, but she'd confirmed several times that she was the only one who could see him.

He had come back, after that night. He seemed to enjoy the company as much as Elsa did. He didn't say anything about Anna, and never stayed too long. He made it snow in her room, made frost designs on her windows. She read to him, sometimes. He never said when he was coming back, but he always did.

And so she'd become accustomed to keeping her balcony doors open at night, hoping he'd show up.

Through this, Elsa had learned several things about her situation with Jack. One was that having only one friend that showed up at random times, whether you wanted them to show up then or not, was inconvenient and sometimes only marginally better than not having any friends. Also that having a friend who only came around when it was cold meant a lot of wishing for snow in the middle of summer. Snow from the sky, not from her hands.

The springs and summers were the worst. As the years passed, Jack became somewhat of a stabilizer for her, someone who shared her gift, but wasn't afraid of it. It came as naturally to him as breathing. So when he was gone, when she was still causing her room to be frosted over in the hot weather, she found her powers more out of control. And without Jack to distract her, Anna's pleads to come out and see her were simply one guilt trip after another. She was more scared than ever in those months. And she was always grateful when the frost began to creep onto the brown and golden leaves that hadn't quite fallen to the ground yet.

Another thing she'd learned was how to ask questions when she was curious about something, rather than just wondering to herself.

During one of his first few visits, he'd caught her staring at his hair. She cast her eyes downward, back down at her gloved hands.

"Oh, come on," he'd grinned, "you can't go and do that. What's up?"

"Were you born with it, or cursed?" she'd asked quietly.

"Huh?"

"With your powers. Born with, or cursed?"

"…Ah." He ran a hand through his hair and leaned back. "Born with, I guess you could say." He looked over at her, studying her slightly. "What about you, then? Little miss white-braid?"

She giggled, then hesitated. He'd already guessed, partly because she'd been so blunt in staring at his similar hair, and partly because she'd been so careless about speaking of his white hair before. So she figured she may as well come out and say it. "Born with, too."

He didn't push further than that. He didn't ask her to show him what she could do, though his eyes did flick down to her gloves and back up to her face. She pretended she didn't notice.

She guessed that was her way of telling him that she had her powers. It wasn't the way she wanted to tell him; she wanted to be able to show off, and have fun with them, the way she did with Anna once upon a time. In the end though, she was too afraid. She kept her powers locked tightly underneath her gloves.

She was thirteen before he finally came out and asked about Anna.

"So what's the story with the other girl?"

He'd interrupted her reading of "The Snow Queen," which he'd seemed to be enjoying. But not enough to keep his curiosity down. Elsa sighed, bookmarked the page, and closed the book.

"She's my younger sister. I…" Elsa tried to find the right words. "When we were younger, things got out of hand, and I, she has a strand of white hair on her head now. And that's my fault." Elsa's voice got thick, and she turned her head away. I'm not going to cry, she told herself firmly. I'm not. "I hit her with my powers. It was an accident. We had to take her to the trolls, who made her forget I had powers. And now she's not allowed to know. And I don't want to hurt her."

"Which is why you keep yourself cooped up in here," Jack said softly, slowly. She nodded once, and the room stood silent for a few moments. "She misses you. A lot." Elsa heard Jack shuffle around the room. "She doesn't know why you've shut her out."

"I don't want to hurt her," Elsa repeated, voice quivering. "I don't want to hurt anyone. But I can't control my powers."

Suddenly Jack was kneeling in front of her, a determined look set on his face. "Alright then." He held out his hand, palm open, then nodded towards one of her hands. "Come on."

Elsa backed up, shaking her head slightly, eyes wide. "No! No, I don't want to hurt you –"

"You're not going to hurt me," Jack replied patiently, then smiled. "I'm Jack Frost, remember?"

The girl considered this, ungloved her hand, and gave it to the boy. He seemed to stiffen, then relax, as though he'd never been touched before. His hand was freezing cold.

"That's my girl. Now, show me what you've got."

Elsa inhaled deeply, closed her eyes, and let the ice flow through her fingertips. Just as he'd done so many times in the past, she let snowflakes drift from her hands and into the room.

"Alright! See?" she heard Jack say, eyes still closed. "Now give it a little more."

His hand was cold, she noticed. It was reassuring, relaxing, in a way. She opened her eyes and let a small mound of snow rest in her hand. Then, without warning, she ungloved her other hand with her teeth, rounded the mound into a ball, and chucked it at his shoulder. He stumbled backwards, caught off-guard, which made Elsa laugh.

"Oh, is that how we're gonna do this?" He asked, his mischievous smile playing on his lips. Elsa yelped and ran around the room, laughing all the way, as he and she both began producing snowball after snowball, hurling them at each other.

"See?" He laughed, just barely dodging one of her shots, "Isn't this fun?"

"If you think this is fun, look what I can do!" She jumped off her bed, stamped her foot, and turned her entire floor into a thick sheet of ice. Jack laughed, delighted, sliding from one side of the room to the next. He got some momentum going and ran the perimeter of her room as best he could without hitting anything, hand pressed against the wall, tendrils of frost shooting up the wall paper and onto the ceiling, getting thicker and longer every lap he made. Elsa, meanwhile, was busy making a little fort in the middle of the room.

"I'm the Ice Queen!" she yelled, "And this is my ice castle!"

"Oh yeah?"

And so it began a competition of who could make the best fort the fastest. Elsa's had an eye for intricate detail, but Jacks were always better built. It ended up taking them both forever to finish anything, though, because they'd send a bolt of snow or ice to each other, sabotaging the project.

"See? What are –" Jack started to ask, but a knock on Elsa's door interrupted him. Elsa gasped, then scrambled around to find her gloves. "What are you doing?" Jack whispered urgently.

"Elsa? I know you're in there! Come on out!" Anna begged from the hallway.

"Go away Anna," Elsa replied hurriedly, pulling on her first glove and trying to locate the second one.

"Elsa, please!"

"Go away!" Elsa called louder, whipping around to face the door. A stream of her powers hit the base of the door, producing sharp, cold jags of ice that, luckily, pointed inward towards the room rather than into the door. Elsa clutched her hand to her chest, mortified. She looked over at Jack, who was staring wide-eyed at what she'd done. Scared and ashamed, she continued searching for her second glove, pulling it on her hand once she found it.

"Elsa, I…" Jack started, after he was sure Anna was gone, but she shook her head.

"Don't," she whispered. "Please, don't."

"I want to help you," he tried.

"You can't, Jack!" she said, raising her voice, biting back tears. "Just because you can control your powers doesn't mean I can, or that you can help me. Please, just don't."

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. He went to put a hand on her shoulder to comfort her, hesitated, then withdrew. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "I'll go. I'll… I'll see you around."

Elsa didn't watch him go.


	4. New Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Growing up faces Elsa with a new problem; she finds that her imaginary friend is a lot cuter than she first thought.

The older Elsa got, the more attractive Jack seemed to get. And this frustrated her. For one, she'd known him since she was little. For another, he was her imaginary friend. No one got a crush on their imaginary friend. Let alone a princess. Let alone her.

And this caused her temper to become short around him at times. He only had to do as much as smile at her the wrong way. She'd get angry at herself, and she'd take it out on him. He seemed to be getting used to it, brushing it off as much as possible.

"Those are new," he commented at one point, nodding to her hands, which were covered in new, blue-green, embroidered gloves. He'd stopped tiptoeing around anything he wanted to talk about and instead just hit head-on. Elsa could argue that this was also a reason that she ended up getting snappy with him, but she knew it had nothing to do with it. It was nice, in a way, to have someone who didn't dodge issues with her.

She fingered the hem of her glove uncomfortably, but spoke evenly and freely. She'd stopped tiptoeing as well. "Yeah," she said. "These ones are thicker. My powers keep getting stronger, and it was becoming a problem."

"A problem?" He laid on his back at the end of her bed, looking at her upside down. She sighed, looking at him from her reading chair, immediately regretting it. Her stomach did its best to try running away, and she clenched her fist. She didn't need this, not right now.

"I can't control my powers, and these gloves help more than my last pair did. It doesn't concern you." And there it was; there was her temper flaring. She bit the inside of her lip, trying to calm down. Jack snorted, unfazed.

"Of course not, your highness." He put sarcastic emphasis on the last two words, as he'd taken to doing these days to make her irritated.

Elsa took the bait. "Don't call me that!" She lashed out, standing. She held her book over her head reflexively, like she was going to throw it at him.

"I thought that was your favorite book?" He asked. She hesitated, thinking of what book it was. There was no book on her nightstand; it had to be the one in her hand. He had her at checkmate, and he knew it. She lowered the book slowly, looking at the floor.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

He knew her every weakness, knew how to diffuse her. But he also knew when to not push her, when to back off.

"I am too," he sighed, rolling onto his stomach. "I instigated that. I do that a lot, these days."

"That's not entirely your fault," she said quietly, sitting back down and putting a hand on the cover of the book.

"It is, and it isn't. You're really cute when you're angry." Her head snapped up to glare at him, cheeks flushing. She prayed it came off as an angry reaction. "In a terrifying way," he added reassuringly, hands motioning his surrender. "But I never got to see that side of you until recently." He shrugged, as though that excused his actions, but he didn't meet her eyes.

"Hmm," was her only reply as she turned her attention back to the book, flipping to the chapter she'd memorized by now. Her fingers played with the worn edges of the pages. She didn't read, she just let herself get lost in thought. The way Jack had phrased things, it was as though he was developing feelings for her to match her own for him. Maybe that made sense, since she'd dreamed him up. But then again, Jack had never taken orders from what she thought he should do before.

But none of it mattered, because she shouldn't have feelings for an imaginary friend.

Restless and frustrated, she walked over onto her balcony, closing the doors behind her. It was snowing, and the sheer cold felt nice on her skin. She heard the doors click open behind her, and the white-haired boy was leaning his elbows on the balcony railing beside her, staff in tow.

"You alright?" he asked, looking beyond the castle walls, over the fjord, and to the mountains.

"Yeah," Elsa lied, then added, "just confused."

"Anything I can help with?"

"No." The response was immediate, as though she was anticipating his question. This wasn't the first time he'd asked if talking through anything would help her feel better, and sometimes it did. "No, not this time."

Jack nodded. "Okay." He didn't push, he didn't seem disappointed. He simply understood. And this made Elsa feel mildly better, at least. He put an arm around her to comfort her, and she didn't stop him. His skin was always colder than she expected; it surprised her at first, but like the snow, she found it relaxing. She settled her head onto his shoulder. This was not an unusual gesture for either one of them; through the years, they'd both needed comforting, and this is how they'd done it when words wouldn't help.

It was only now that it occurred to her that he might be going through similar mental turmoil; he'd known her since she was very small. He may have needed this as much as she did.

Silent, they stared into the mountains, relaxing against each other.


	5. Mourning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack visits just after the death of Elsa's parents.

Elsa got the news late in the afternoon, and spent the rest of the day in bed, face in her pillow. The seas had been unusually rough this time of year, and the ship had gone under, taking her parents with it. Her mother and father, the two people who loved her unconditionally, that believed in her every step of the way, who spent time with her so she didn't feel so alone, but also kept their distance because she asked them to. They were the people who tried to protect her while she was trying to protect them. She loved them, more than anything, and they were a main support of her very small world.

And now they were gone.

She refused food through the day, and wouldn't let any servants come in. Anna didn't come to her door at all, which worried Elsa. Mostly, though, she was distraught, scared, and felt lost. What would she do without them? They always knew how to handle things, and now they were gone. What's more, in a few years, she'd be expected to become the queen, which she was in no way ready for. Her room got colder and colder, ice creeping up the walls and snowflakes suspending in midair.

She cried so much that she got to the point where no tears would come. She was emotionally and physically drained by the time the knocking came. She didn't answer at first, but she realized it was coming from the wrong set of doors to be Anna. The young woman lifted her head just enough to look out at her balcony. Sure enough, it was Jack.

Despite the fact that she wasn't sure she wanted to see him right now, she dragged herself over to the doors and opened them, not saying a word. Concern played in his eyes as he looked her over. She was sure she was a wreck; red, puffy eyes with dark circles underneath, disheveled hair. She hadn't even bothered to change out of her pajamas. That, paired with the state of her room, was surely a sight to see.

"What happened?" he near-whispered as she trudged back to her bed. She only shook her head wordlessly, bracing herself for another bout of tearless crying. "No, Elsa, please. What happened?" He was right on her heels, sitting gently on the bed as she buried her face in her pillow.

"My parents," she said slowly, the pillow muffling her words, "my parents have…" she couldn't continue. The lump in her throat prevented it.

Jack got the general idea. For some reason Elsa couldn't fathom, he took this a very different way than she did. "But that's great! They're the ones who said you needed to stay away from everyone, right? They're the ones who wanted you to hide your powers from everyone. Now you don't have to hide anymore!"

"What?" Elsa whispered, lifting her head ever so slightly and turning to look at him. His face was bright, like this was the best thing that could have happened.

"You can finally be free, Elsa! You can take off your gloves and show the world what you can really do! You don't have to be afraid anymore!"

"No!" She yelled, whirling on him, stomach boiling with rage. "You don't get it! I'm the one who really enforced my confinement! I wanted to keep everyone safe. I loved my mother and father, and they loved me. I'm more scared than ever without them! What am I supposed to do now? Who am I supposed to turn to? They only wanted what was best for me, and they didn't ever force me out of my comfort zone." She was pacing around her room now, anger making her unable to stay still. "Which is more than I can say for you!"

Jack flinched back from her accusation, wounded, then scowled, walking towards her. "I only wanted the best for you, too! I wanted you to be able to not feel locked away or trapped! I kept trying to help you!" He yelled back.

"I never asked for your help! I never wanted it!" The argument was veering off-topic, carrying her emotions about her parents into it, and she knew it. In a way, she was projecting. But she couldn't afford to feel pity, or guilt, not now. "You just assumed that since you could control your powers, that you could magically help me with mine! Well, that's now how it works, Jack! You're this immortal, unearthly being, and I'm just a girl!"

"You're not just a girl!" Jack retorted quickly. "You're special, Elsa! You're a princess with magical powers! You're… you're important! If to no one else, then to me! You are precious to me! You deserve better than this!"

A new feeling welled inside of her; she was precious to him. Her heart wanted to jump, wanted her to turn around and become a dewy-eyed young maiden, wanted her to ask if he meant it, if he meant it the way she thought he did. But she forced those feelings down, renewing her anger. She turned away from him, too enraged to look at him.

"What do you know about what I 'deserve'? You think I deserve to have dead parents, in order to somehow be freer! You don't know anything about what I deserve!" She forced her eyes shut. "You don't know anything at all!"

"I know more than you seem to think! I know how sad and miserable you've been all these years, and how much you've longed for a way to not be afraid of yourself! How much you've wanted to go out and see your sister! I know how lonely you've made yourself, how much you've relied on me! And you know what else I know? I know…" he paused briefly, like his conscious was trying to get him to stop there, but if that was the case, he threw caution to the wind. "I know you've developed feelings for me, the way I have for you!"

There it was. The truth was out about them both. But rather than feeling relief about any of it, her chest swelled with fury. "You can't possibly know anything of the sort," she screamed, "you're not even real!"

She braced herself for the next retort, the next wave of attacks she'd have to defend herself against, but they never came. She opened her eyes, looking over her shoulder.

"Jack?" Her voice was small. "Jack, I'm sorry."

But he wasn't there. There was no sign that he'd been in the room in the first place, not even his staff. She knew he hadn't flown off; there had been no sudden gust of wind filling the room, disturbing the snowflakes still suspended in midair.

"No," she whispered, and then the whisper turned into a yell. "No!" She slumped against her bedroom door, sliding against it until she was sitting balled up on the floor. She felt cold, truly cold, from the inside out. She'd lost the three people who'd kept her company through all her life, all in one day. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." She was sorry to her parents that she hadn't been able to love them the way she'd wanted to; with hugs, and nights where her mother would braid her hair, and days her father would teach her to dance, and held hands, and warmth. She was sorry she couldn't learn to control her powers, if only for them. And she was sorry that she'd lost her best friend in the world.

A small knock came on her door. "Elsa? Please… I know you're in there…" Anna said quietly, brokenly, through the thick wood. "I'm right out here for you. Please, let me in…"

Elsa wanted nothing more than to throw open her door and hug her sister, the only one she loved that she had left. But looking around her room at all the ice and snow within it, she knew she couldn't. She couldn't do it. She couldn't risk losing all she had left, the one she'd tried to protect the most.

She brought her knees to her chest, wrapped her arms around them, and sat there in silence. Although her sister was the closest she'd been to her in years, she'd never felt more alone.


	6. The Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anna invites an unexpected guest to her wedding.

"Sit still," Elsa mumbled commandingly. She talked around hairpins between her lips, holding long locks of ginger hair between her fingers. "I'm almost done."

"Oh, Elsa, I'm so nervous. What if… what if I trip? What I stutter? What if he stutters? What if… what if he changes his mind? What if –"

"Anna," Elsa sighed, smiling at her sister's reflection in the mirror (or at least, as much as she could with half a dozen hair pins in her mouth,) "it's going to be fine. You've been looking forward to this since the day you met him."

"I wouldn't say the exact day I met him," Anna commented. "At first, he seemed really mean, and didn't believe that Hans and I were meant to be…"

"Which you weren't," Elsa cut in.

"…and then he was all uppity about his sleigh…"

"You know how boys are with their sleighs."

"And then…" she trailed off.

"And then?" Elsa continued braiding and pinning her sister's hair over and over.

"And then." It was all Anna said, as if it finished her thought completely. Elsa sighed, but smiled nonetheless. While she did think Kristoff was a better match for her than Hans was, she'd still refused to let her marry him within a week. Kristoff had agreed that this was a bad idea, and insisted on properly courting her for a while before popping the question. He'd come to Elsa about it first, making sure she'd give them her blessing. He was just about as nervous as Anna was now; he'd kept fumbling over his words, repeating how he understood that Anna was a princess and he was a commoner.

"But I love her," he'd said, "I really do, and I'd like to make her happy for the rest of her life."

As if he'd needed to say that to win Elsa over. She smiled at the memory as she tucked the last strand of hair into place.

"There," Elsa said, nodding at her handiwork. The braids intertwined with each other, becoming a full circlet around her head. It looked very similar to how Anna usually wore her hair, but doubled-up, with thinner braids.

"It's beautiful," Anna smiled, examining it in the mirror, gently running her fingers over it. She turned back to her sister, concern in her eyes. "Elsa, I'm so nervous."

Elsa wrapped her arms around the girl. "You're going to be fine," she reassured. "You've waited for this for a while. I think you're more excited, than anything."

Anna nodded once.

"Then let's not make him wait, hm?"

The wedding, of course, went without a hitch, and the reception was held in the main ballroom of the castle. Elsa, who was not a dancer, made idle talk with the guests, and when no one was looking, ate an ungodly amount of chocolate. Until she heard her sister calling her over the din.

"—sa! Elsa!" The new bride practically skipped up to her. "There's someone who I'd like you to dance with."

"Oh," Elsa half-laughed, "Anna, you know I don't dance."

Anna began dragging her across the marble floor anyway. "Come on, do it as a favor to me? It's an old friend of mine, and I promised him I'd do my best." She turned to face the queen. "Just one dance. Please?"

Elsa sighed, but smiled. "One dance. Just one."

Anna squealed, leading her over to the other side of the ballroom. "Elsa, I'd like you to meet Jack Frost."

"Jack Frost?" Elsa whispered. If Anna could see him even now, if Anna knew him… he wasn't an imaginary friend.

"Yeah, you remember that book mom gave us both when we were kids? Well, maybe you didn't get it. Anyway, he's like… this bringer of winter, and I wasn't sure he was real at first, but he really is, and he heard about you, and he really wants to see you." He wasn't imaginary at all. He was real. Could he be real? He had to be, at this point. She knew he had to be.

And there he was; stepping from behind one of the pillars like he'd choreographed this moment over and over. He wore one of Arendale's finest suits, which Anna had probably picked out for him. His hair wasn't as unkempt as usual; it was somehow tamed down, clinging tight against his head. His eyes were still as shocking blue as ever, and his thin lips pulled into a smile that seemed to say "surprise!". Elsa suddenly felt like there wasn't enough air in the room, possibly in the world. She turned to tell Anna that she'd dance with anyone, anyone at all, just not him, that she could not physically do this. But Anna had disappeared back into the throngs of people, probably back to her new husband.

She looked back to the boy who she'd thought didn't exist, who was waiting with a hand outstretched. "Care to dance?" He asked, his voice colored with success. She told Anna she'd dance one dance with him. One dance. That was all. She sighed and took his hand, the coldness of his skin on hers both alien and familiar to her. It disconcerted her.

And then they were dancing, whirling around on the dance floor. Jack was a surprisingly good leader, which made Elsa seem a lot less awful at dancing than she actually was.

"Anna took great pains in teaching you to dance, I see," Elsa commented, putting emphasis on Anna's name. Jack laughed once.

"You didn't think you were the only one I visited, did you?"

She had thought that. "Of course not. But I just didn't realize you visited my sister, as well."

"Do I detect a little jealousy?"

"Absolutely not. I'm glad my sister had someone to keep her from being lonely." There was a bit of a bite in her tone; she'd thought she was special. Apparently, she'd been wrong. "It was especially nice of you to come tonight, for her."

"Ah," Jack nodded, a twinkle in his eye, "of course. I wouldn't miss it."

Elsa didn't comment on the fact he seemed to be hiding something; she was actually rather cross with him. She'd gotten over feeling guilty for his disappearance long, long ago. And now, especially, she was simply angry. If he had been able to visit her in the past few years, why didn't he? And then to show up here and now, of all times, acting like he had her exactly where he wanted her, to use Anna to get to her… it was as though he'd become her new villain. She'd defeated her fear, which had held her back, and now here was Jack Frost, to try and defeat her. Well, it wasn't going to work.

As if he could read her thoughts, he spoke. "You're not wearing your gloves anymore, I see."

"Anna helped me learn how to control my powers," she replied coolly. _You couldn't, but Anna could,_ she thought smugly. _Because Anna is better than you._

"I'm shocked. I thought you'd imprison yourself forever."

"Things change. If only you'd been there to see it." The venom was beginning to seep into her voice. _Keep calm,_ she reminded herself. _Don't let him get to you._

He couldn't keep the grin off his face as he twirled her. "Oh, I may as well have. Anna told me all about it. Bringing winter in the middle of summer? Now that's not even something I can do." He shook his head. "I even got to see that castle you built up on the mountain. Breathtaking. Of course, I'm sure it looked nicer before things started falling apart. The upper room was in shambles, it looked like something enormous fell from the ceiling. Working too much on detail and not structure again, yeah? Some things never change."

Elsa felt her face get hot. She contemplated stepping on his foot. As she opened her mouth to reply, the band finished the song they were playing. Relief swept over her, and she regained her cool. "It was a pleasure dancing with you, Mister Frost. Now if you'll excuse me." She didn't wait for his answer. She needed to get away, away from the entire party. She made a beeline for the door, slipping into the cold, starry night.

Finding it easier to breathe, she strolled around the courtyard, composing herself. She would undoubtedly run into him again at some point that night, which she dreaded. But she was the queen, and she had to be able to act dignified, no matter the situation. Absentmindedly, she let the ground beneath her feet become ice, creating a thin sheet of it over the stone as she walked, then skated around. It was a voice behind her that woke her from her trance.

"Boo."

Elsa screamed, whirling around, looking into the face of none other than the man she'd been trying to avoid. He smiled, but his eyes were flecked with worry and concern. The way they'd been on nights that she'd been the most afraid of her powers.

Well, there went her composure.

She huffed, glaring at him.

"What do you want, Jack Frost?" She almost shouted.

He laughed once, without humor, then stepped back. His act of bravado was gone, and he seemed lost without his staff. He seemed… Small, in a way. Small, and very vulnerable. "That's a good question."


	7. Flying

Elsa crossed her arms, leaning against the courtyard wall. "What do you mean, 'that's a good question'?" She stared him up and down. He looked so unlike she'd seen him before. His confidence seemed to have been sucked out of him, like he was scared. Or maybe just tired.

"Elsa," he tried, staring at the ground, then sighed. He sat, putting his head in his hands. "The last night I came to you… I was wrong. What I said about your freedom, how they trapped you. I was wrong. But…" He trailed off, like he was trying to assemble the sentence in his head perfectly before he said it.

"But?" Elsa repeated after a while. Her voice, while softer, still had an edge to it, like she was expecting him to hurt her again. But he'd admitted his faults, and now he was concerning her. She sat, too, keeping her distance from him.

"But the other things I said that night, I meant them." He looked up at her with his big blue eyes, honesty shining in them. Honesty, and something else. Fear.

"About you wanting to help me?" She asked, confused.

"Yeah," Jack sighed, looking at the ice again. He traced his finger over it, making frost patterns on it. "Yeah, that too."

"I don't understand," Elsa shook her head, and then suddenly said, "Fix your hair, would you? It's weird."

"Weird?" Jack asked, sounding almost hurt. "Anna spent a lot of time on it, said I had to look like a proper gentleman…"

"No, it's just, it's weird for me," Elsa explained, giving up and letting down her guard. "You looking like a 'proper gentleman.' It's just not you."

Jack chuckled, half-smiling at her. Then he mussed his hair, making it stick up at strange angles. It wasn't quite how it usually looked, but it was enough. "Better?"

"Much," she smiled. "Now, try and explain this to me. What do you mean, about the other things?"

"Can we go somewhere else?" he asked, looking around at the courtyard. Elsa sighed. Part of her wanted to refuse; whatever he needed to say, he could say it in the courtyard, where anyone else could hear him. But she remembered how she felt when Anna had done that to her with Hans.

"Where do you suggest we go?" she asked.

Jack hesitated, then a smile crept across his lips. "I figured we could head up to the rooftop."

"The rooftop?" Elsa scoffed. "Jack, I'm in a gown. And heels. I'm in no position to –"

Jack offered his hand. It wasn't as cocky as his display in the ballroom, but it was close. Elsa thought about this for a moment. She had no idea what he was planning to do, but she was curious. And even through everything that had happened, a large part of her trusted him. She took his hand.

It crossed her mind a split second before it happened. Just as the thought entered her head, they lifted into the air, whipping above the castle and looking down on the world. Elsa screamed, then laughed, and couldn't stop laughing.

"We're flying! Jack, we're flying!" She yelled up to him. He just smiled down at her. They circled the castle a couple times before Jack landed them safely atop one of the roofs of the highest towers. It took Elsa a little while to calm down fully, as she kept looking down at the courtyard and giggling.

"You have a nice laugh," Jack said finally, which brought Elsa back to her senses. She looked him straight on.

"Now that we're up here, talk."

Jack ran his hand through his hair again, letting out a long, slow breath. "Elsa, you can't possibly not know where I'm going with this conversation."

The young queen was beginning to get frustrated. "Well, I don't. Okay? So you're going to have to spell it out to me like I'm an idiot. Just spit it out."

Something about that made Jack smile a little more, made him seem a little more confident. "There's my girl," he whispered, almost so low Elsa couldn't hear him.

"What?" she demanded.

"What I mean is, the things I said about how I felt about you. Feel about you, still. And how I thought you felt about me." He looked her straight in the eyes as he said this, finding his courage. She could still see that he was afraid, but less so than he'd been moments ago. She inhaled sharply, turning her gaze away from him as her face went hot.

That seemed like forever ago. She'd moved on as best she could, and living in a world with more people in it had done wonders for her. She hadn't met anyone, no, but she'd buried her feelings for Jack under social interactions with her subjects, sister, and snowman through the years. She wasn't sure if they were even still fully intact.

The silence seemed to go on forever. Jack was waiting on Elsa, and Elsa didn't know what to say.

"That was a long time ago," Elsa said finally, quietly. "I don't know how I feel anymore, Jack."

Jack nodded slowly, understanding, slightly defeated. He opened his mouth to speak, but Elsa held up a hand. She wasn't done.

"But," she continued slowly, "I wouldn't mind you sticking around as my best friend regardless. Well," she added, "second best friend, to Anna. But anyway, you're important to me, Jack. And if you wouldn't mind, I'd like you back in my life." Jack seemed to be considering all this, looking a little more hopeful than before. "And," she added cautiously, "it'll give me a chance to figure out just how I feel for you again. Fair?" She was pretty sure she was going to end up feeling something a little more than just friendship for him again, but she refused to rush.

Jack grinned. It was a sincere, goofy grin, not an orchestrated, "I have you where I want you" kind of grin. He knew he had a second chance. And if nothing else, he knew he'd won his best friend over again. "Fair. Perfectly fair."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading _Imaginary Friend!_ I hope you enjoyed it!


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